To Be Understood
by prettybluescarf
Summary: Everyone experiences a number of firsts in their life, and Sherlock Holmes is no exception. But out of all those firsts, Sherlock will always remember his first friend.
1. First Encounters

This story has been floating around my head for a while now. Hope you like it!

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><p>The sound of a chair scraping across the floor of the library woke Sherlock from his light slumber.<p>

"Sorry, do you mind if I sit here?"

Sherlock rubbed the remnants of sleep from his eyes and glanced up at the boy across from him. He had reddish blond hair with unruly curls that rivaled Sherlock's own. There were other similarities as well. The boy was thin, too thin to fit in the baggy shirt he was wearing. And he was tall too, just a few inches shorter than Sherlock, which was quite a feat since Sherlock was abnormally tall for his age.

"It's fine." Sherlock mumbled. Naturally, he would rather be alone. But mum had asked him to try and be more social, and she doesn't ask for many things from him.

"My name's Victor by the way. I think you're in my Human Anatomy class." The redhead spoke up again. He settled his books down, obviously trying to initiate a conversation.

"Sherlock. And yes, I am."

"I thought so, though I wasn't quite sure because you rarely say anything in class. Also, you somehow manage to avoid having a lab partner. Probably lucky for that, I always end up doing most of the work in group projects anyway." Victor was either oblivious to the fact that Sherlock obviously did not wish to talk, or he chose to ignore it. Sherlock had an odd suspicion that it was the latter.

However it did not take long before his talkative table mate turned his attention to his studies. Sherlock greatly appreciated the change and resumed his previous readings. They remained like that for quite some time without a disturbance. Victor would occasionally get up to retrieve another book, or to return the one he had finished reading, but aside from that, Sherlock was able to further his research on various types of dirt and how they vary within provinces and regions without distraction. After another hour, Victor began packing away his books.

"Are you coming back here tomorrow Sherlock?"

"Mmm hmm." Sherlock murmured, not taking his eyes away from his textbook.

The sound of Victor's shoes scuffing across the floor was the only sign that Sherlock's new acquaintance had departed. Only then did Sherlock look towards the doors that Victor had disappeared behind. Why on earth would anyone attempt to interact with him? Sherlock had become rather infamous for his antisocial behavior, and was rarely spoken to. Even the teachers had learned that conversing Sherlock was near impossible. Sherlock didn't necessarily mind being avoided. Time he would have otherwise spent socializing was used to further his research and experiments, which was something he truly enjoyed.

Further speculation as to Victor's motives was interrupted by Sherlock's phone receiving a text from his brother.

_Business trip had been extended. Will most likely be home within a few weeks._

_-MH_

Sherlock knew that it probably wasn't even Mycroft who had texted him, since his brother rarely does and kind of menial tasks if he can help it. The message was most likely sent by one of Mycroft's latest assistants. This text of course meant that he had more time to himself without being bothered by his older brother. Whenever Mycroft wasn't away on one of his government trips, he would tend to keep a rather uncomfortably close eye on his younger brother. And the last thing Sherlock needed was another overly-protective mother constantly fretting over him.

Sherlock slung his book bag over his shoulder and prepared for his routine walk back to his apartment. Little did he know that his life was about to change. But years from now, Sherlock Holmes will remember this as the day that he met Victor Trevor.

**O O O**

Victor came back the next day, and the day after that. Even if Sherlock had changed tables, Victor would find him and wordlessly settle himself down and begin a one-sided conversation that often involved teachers, class subjects, or people he found annoying. Sherlock didn't know why he was surprised that Victor kept coming back, or why he even cared. But he couldn't deny that this change in routine was not an unpleasant one. And it didn't hurt that the people Victor disliked were also the people Sherlock found unbearable either.

"Would you like some tea?"

Sherlock looked up from his book. Some of Victor's ramblings would occasionally involve questions, but the blond always answered them himself. This was different. Victor was leaning back in his seat with a warm disarming smile decorating his face.

"Tea?" Sherlock slowly responded.

"Yeah, I was planning on brewing some in the cafeteria and thought that maybe you'd like some." Sherlock remained silent for a moment. He rarely drank while studying since he considered it a distraction, but if Victor was already planning on making some…

"Alright."

Victor's smile grew as he slid out of his chair and began walking to the library exit. Ever since their first encounter, Sherlock had noted that the young man couldn't stay still for more than a couple hours. After the first hour he would fidget and switch from book to book until he eventually found an excuse to get up and move around. It was a bit distracting, but if Sherlock got tea out of it then he supposed he could live with it.

Victor came back a few minutes later carrying two mugs.

"I didn't know how you took your tea, so I just added a little honey because that's the way I like it."

Sherlock nodded and thanklessly accepted his mug. It wasn't black tea, in fact there was barely any color at all to the liquid in the mug.

"What kind of tea is this?"

Pausing from sipping from his cup, Victor smiled. Sherlock may not have realized it, but that was the first question he had asked Victor.

"It's white tea. Apparently it's harvested from the very tips of the tea leaf and also has a lot of good antioxidants in it. "

Sherlock looked from Victor to his mug, and hesitantly took a sip. It was sweet, but that was probably the honey, and had a slight malty taste to it. As far as teas go, it wasn't terrible, in fact Sherlock could see himself getting used to the calm, delicate brew.

Leaning back in his chair Sherlock let out a quiet sigh and glanced around the library. He purposefully chose an area that was seldom occupied because it meant he would be undisturbed during his studies. That it, until Victor came along. But instead of a distraction, the young man seemed to have the same effect as the shelves of books surrounding them. Unassuming, yet intriguing all the same. The almost perfume-like scent of the tea and the comforting presence of Victor cast a different mood in the otherwise boring library.

It was… peaceful.

And Sherlock found he quite liked it that way.

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><p><strong>Reviews are so very much appreciated!<strong>

I picture a young Tom Hiddleston playing Victor.


	2. Move In

Thank you so much for continuing to read up to this point! And thank you so much for your reviews!

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><p>Sherlock didn't know how it happened, but somehow it became a common occurrence for Victor to make his way to Sherlock's apartment. It had started out with Sherlock inviting him there when the library was closed for maintenance, and then quickly evolved from there. He didn't disturb Sherlock in anyway, he'd just settle down in one of the old lumpy chairs and study for his classes or read a book.<p>

Occasionally, Victor would talk, or brew some tea. Sherlock didn't really mind the change in routine, and he certainly didn't mind the tea. Although he considered himself one of the most brilliant people he knew, Sherlock knew he made a terrible cup of tea.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Perhaps." Sherlock knew it was a rhetorical question. Victor would eventually ask his question anyway.

"Your apartment is huge, but it isn't really set up for more than one person. You ever thought about being in a relationship?"

Sherlock looked up from his textbook. Had he not become accustomed to Victor's often invasive questions, he would have thought that he was hitting on him.

"No, I haven't. Unnecessary relationships often get in the way of my research. They're time consuming, and I could be using that otherwise wasted time doing something useful."

Victor blinked. "What about me then?"

Sherlock stared at the curly-haired man sitting in a chair that should have been incinerated years ago. He never gave much thought to what he and Victor were. Had it been anybody else, he would have considered the hours he spent with Victor time wasted. But Sherlock never saw it like that.

"You're different. You don't get in my way and you don't interfere. You're a…"

"Friend?"

Sherlock paused. He never thought that he would use that term to describe anyone, but it somehow suited Victor. "Yes, I suppose so."

Victor nodded with a faint smile.

"So what about it?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I move in? At the moment I'm still living on campus and I don't really like my roommate."

Sliding off his chair Victor moved closer to Sherlock with a pleading smile on his face.

"Plus if I do move in I can make you tea whenever, get you food, and help pay the rent? It would be like we're a domestic couple! Except without the sex, unless you wanted that."

Sherlock stared at the blond. Out of all the people he could have met and allowed into his life, he was baffled as to why he chose someone so electric and unlike himself. Maybe it was the honesty that he appreciated. There are too many people in this world afraid of saying what they really mean, and to find someone like Victor is, well, refreshing.

"Yes. Yes you can move in."

**O O O**

It took less than a day for Victor to completely move in. A majority of his possessions consisted of books, clothes, and more blankets then anyone should ever be allowed to own. There was a lot of walking up and down stairs, carrying large boxes, and finding space for everything. Victor was completely tired out by the end of it, and demanded that Sherlock carry him over the threshold because it was "tradition."

As far as roommates go, Victor was as good as it gets for Sherlock. He wasn't tidy, but he made sure his mess never got in the way of Sherlock's, and he always ensured that there was a cup of tea near by and food in the fridge. Although they did have to make concessions, Victor was adamant that some of Sherlock's experiments were not allowed too close to the Chinese leftovers, and in return the blond would turn a blind eye to the experiments and body parts he'd find in the freezer. Unless he was curious of course.

"Why are you burning fingers in the kitchen?"

Sherlock glanced to his side, noting Victor leaning against the counter quizically observing his project.

"I'm seeing what parts of the human finger deteriorate first."

"So that's what the smell is then?"

Sherlock handed Victor a hospital mask, to slightly block the stench.

"I have to take smell into consideration too, If I opened a window it might change the effect of the results."

"Mmm." Was the muffled response. "What'll you do with whatever's left?"

"Save them for future experiments. I'll probably store some of the bones in the fern pot to see how human remains fair in certain soils."

Victor's brow furrowed. "Since bones don't burn away what do crematoriums do with them after they burn the body?"

"Usually they grind them up and mix the remains with the ashes. Unlike me they don't bury their bones under the fern bushes."

Victor chuckled through his mask, Sherlock decided it wasn't an unpleasant sound.

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><p><strong>Reviews are so very much appreciated!<strong>

I picture a young Tom Hiddleston playing Victor.


	3. A Little Bit Tipsy

Thank you so much for continuing to read up to this point! And thank you so much for your reviews!

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><p>"Sherrrrr-lock." Victor whined as his friend half-dragged half-carried him into their apartment.<p>

It had been the blond's idea to go out for drinks, and honestly he should have known that Sherlock would take the opportunity to turn it into an experiment. Now he knows exactly how much alcohol it takes to get his friend drunk in the span of two hours.

"Sherlllllck why are we back 'ere?"

"Because you are drunk and need to go to bed Victor."

Victor scrunched his nose and lightly nodded before allowing himself to be lead to his room, his arms wrapping around Sherlock and humming happily into the brunette's sholder. Sherlock gently flopped the affectionate blond onto his bed and began unlacing his roommate's shoes.

"Did-ja have fun t'night Sherlock?"

"Yes Victor I did." Sherlock pulled off the blond's other shoe.

"Good. You should 'ave fun more. You're tooooo sad sometimes."

Sherlock stood up, and stared at Victor. He had never before encountered someone who noticed or cared about how he felt. Mycroft was one of the only people who saw through Sherlock, but he usually used that against him. Victor on the other hand had taken it upon himself to try to make the brunette's life a little happier.

After briefly pausing, Sherlock moved to undo Victor's jeans.

"What're you doing?"

"Taking off your pants so you'll be more comfortable."

Victor giggled. "Least buy me dinner first."

Sherlock's blush just about matched Victor's now. After successfully getting the blond out of his pants he helped maneuver Victor under his many blankets until his roommate was cocooned in a thick fluffy mass of warmth.

"I like you." Victor murmured before sleepily tapping Sherlock's nose and burrowing further into his blankets.

For a second time, Sherlock stared wordlessly down at the blond on the bed in front of him. A small smile spread across Sherlock's face before exiting the room quietly as possible.

Victor was going to have a terrible headache tomorrow.

**O O O**

Pain. That's all he felt. A throbbing pain combined with the feeling of a knife embedded in his skull. And on top of that, he couldn't take a full breath.

Victor coughed and rolled away from the sun beaming through his window. It was far too early to be in this much pain. Next to his bed was a pill, a glass of water, and a note that said "Sorry –SH."

"Oh." He moaned as everything came back to him. Reaching for the pill and cup, Victor swore to pay more attention to how much he drank around Sherlock. His liver couldn't handle that much alcohol on a regular basis. Looking around his room, Victor noticed his jeans lying on the floor and suddenly became very aware of the fact that he's half naked in bed because Sherlock put him there.

Groaning, Victor unwrapped himself from the blankets and blindly stumbled towards the bathroom. He needed a shower.

Stripping out of the rest of his clothes, Victor stared in the mirror and ran a hand over his stomach. He needed to eat more, last time he saw his parents his mother had fussed over him and his eating habits the entire visit. It wasn't that bad really, he just didn't usually like to eat when he was stressed, and his classes were taking a lot out of him.

Stepping into the shower, Victor let out a happy moan when the hot water began to wash over his body. He remained like that for a while, feeling the muscles under his skin relax before pouring shampoo into his palm and massaged it into his scalp, hoping to ease the throbbing hangover away. He felt much better after the steam from the hot water surrounded him as he washed the shampoo out of his hair.

Victor coughed as he turned off the water, something didn't smell right. Peeking out from behind the shower curtain, he was surprised to see Sherlock smoking on the bathroom floor.

"What are you doing?"

Sherlock glanced up at his roommate. "Honestly Victor, I thought you were smart enough to recognize a man smoking."

"I know you're smoking Sherlock, but why are you smoking in here while I'm showering?"

Stubbing out his cigarette, Sherlock handed Victor his towel.

"The steam hides the smell. My brother's sending over a housekeeper and he'd love to hear that I've been smoking."

Victor took the towel gratefully and began drying his hair. Sherlock couldn't help but notice how the water droplets ran from his roommate's abdomen down to his shark hip bones and continued on toward his-

"Why is your brother sending a housekeeper?"

Sherlock coughed and moved to stand up.

"Most likely because he wants to spy on me."

"Spy on you?"

"Yes, he's taken it upon himself to monitor me and ensure I don't disgrace the good Holmes name that we share. He doesn't completely trust my judgment."

Victor nodded and wrapped the towel around his waist.

"Maybe he's just worried about you?"

Chuckling, Sherlock shook his head.

"He's doesn't care about me. Mycroft doesn't believe in caring."

Sherlock nodded towards Victor.

"You'd better get dressed and fed. She'll be here soon, and we can't have my brother thinking I'm living with an alcoholic nudist." Sherlock paused, briefly contemplating his words. "On second thought-"

"Nope! No I'm getting dressed right now. I'm not pretending to be a nudist so your brother has a fit about your choice of roommates. And you're the one that got me drunk, that wasn't my plan!" Victor pointed an accusing finger at the smiling brunette before him.

Sherlock guiltily looked down at his feet. "Yes, I am sorry about that. But now that I know your tolerance level we can make sure you don't get drunk in the future!"

Victor gave Sherlock a long stare. "Are you justifying what happened because it was scientific?"

"...You don't want me to answer yes to that, right?"

Groaning, Victor moved past Sherlock to his room. But the brunette didn't fail to notice the faint smile that appeared on the blond's lips.

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><p><strong>Reviews are so very much appreciated!<strong>

I picture a young Tom Hiddleston playing Victor.


	4. Hudsons

Thank you so much for continuing to read up to this point! And thank you so much for your reviews!

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><p>Mrs. Hudson was anything but what Sherlock was expecting.<p>

She was a sweet, kind-faced, motherly woman who immediately began fretting around the apartment upon her arrival. And yet, although Victor quickly took a shine to her, Sherlock remained suspicious.

"So how did you find my brother again?"

Pausing from her cleaning, Mrs. Hudson smiled at Sherlock.

"Well I had an advertisement out and he responded. He seemed nice enough, your brother, although he was a bit short on the phone. He said he was concerned about your living arrangements." She emphasized arrangements while lifting a plate of sliced fruits sitting dangerously close to a class full to the brim with ash alongside Sherlock's chemistry set.

"And out of the goodness of your own heart you dropped everything and moved here?"

"What makes you say I moved here?"

"Because you're wearing the same skirt and socks that you wore the day before last. It could be that you chose those clothes deliberately, but you've got quite the tan, which would suggest you've moved to our cloudy area recently. The tan says recently, and the clothes say there was little to no time to prepare before you left. But women always pack no matter how little time they have, so you were rushed but by somebody else, your husband perhaps-"

"Sherlock, can I talk to you for a minute?"

Victor pulled his roommate out of the kitchen and into his bedroom, closing the door before turning on Sherlock.

"That was very rude."

To his credit, Sherlock looked honestly confused.

"What are you talking about?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Victor prayed for patience. "Sherlock, people like to have privacy. They don't appreciate it when other people comment on their personal business without their permission, especially if there's someone else there."

"But I-"

"No Sherlock. Mrs. Hudson is an incredibly sweet woman who is here to help you, and you should treat her as such."

Mrs. Hudson's voice interrupted Sherlock retort. "Is this human blood?"

Darting out of the bedroom, Sherlock and Victor found Mrs. Hudson staring at vials of blood in the fridge.

"Those are mine." Sherlock stated, as if claiming ownership of said blood would make the whole thing seem absolutely normal.

"Why?" Victor and Mrs. Hudson questioned in unison.

Rolling his eyes Sherlock moved past the two. "I'm studying the reaction of blood to other chemicals. And it also works as a natural energy booster when re-injected into the bloodstream."

Slamming the door, Sherlock turned on Mrs. Hudson. "And I suppose you'll go running to my brother with this information now won't you? It's what you're paying you for isn't he?"

"Sherlo-"

"What?" Mrs. Hudson cut off whatever Victor was going to say. "You think I'd do something as horrid as that?"

"He did offer you money didn't he?"

Jutting out her chin, Mrs. Hudson stared Sherlock directly in the eye.

"Yes, he did. But no good person should be monitored like that, so I turned him right down, but only after he guaranteed me this job. I wouldn't let him pass me aside only because I wouldn't play his game!"

Sherlock stared long and hard at the woman in front of him. There were no signs of dishonesty, no tells, and reason not to trust her. Still…

Sensing the lingering distrust, Mrs. Hudson continued. "Whatever you boys do here is your business. As long as it doesn't kill you or could possibly hurt somebody, then I'll keep it to myself."

The two stared at one another until Victor broke the silence.

"Thank you Mrs. Hudson. We appreciate that very much, don't we Sherlock?" Victor nudged his roommate.

"Thank you, Mrs. Hudson." Sherlock nodded curtly.

Smiling, Mrs. Hudson gave the two a pat on each of their arms.

"It's not a problem really, I understand. We all have a right to be suspicious of strangers and deserve our secrets. Besides, you two are nice, I don't mind looking after you both."

Victor smiled and leaned into the touch. "We really do appreciate it Mrs. Hudson.

Before anymore words could be said, there was a knock at the door.

"Oh, that'll be my husband with my ride home."

Brushing the lingering dust off of her hands, Mrs. Hudson walked over and opened the door.

"Hello Charles."

"Hello Dear. I trust your day has been a productive one."

Mr. Hudson moved past his wife and into the apartment, his eyes landing of the two young men occupying the space. "Well aren't you going to introduce us dear?"

Mrs. Hudson jumped at her husband's sharp tone.

"Charles, these are the two lovely boys I was hired to clean for. Sherlock Holmes, and his companion Victor Trevor."

Mr. Hudson raised a brow. "Holmes ? So you must be the younger brother. So kind of Mycroft to hire my wife, wasn't it dear?"

"Yes Charles."

Sherlock and Victor watched as Mrs. Hudson changed from sweet and open to silent and anxious. Clearly, this wasn't a happy marriage.

Noticing the two watching, Charles turned to the door, but not before giving Sherlock a calculated look.

"We should be going dear, and let these two get to, whatever they usually get to when people aren't around to see."

Mrs. Hudson sent the two an apologetic look as she followed her husband out of the apartment. It was only when the door clicked shut that the two allowed themselves to relax. Victor let out a large huff.

"Well, that was-"

"Strange?"

"To say the least." Victor shifted from one foot to the other. "Did Mrs. Hudson seem… off to you?"

"If by off you mean she was understandably acting anxious around her abusive husband, then yes, she did seem off."

"What?" Victor ran to the window, watching at the two Hudsons leave the apartment building. "Why didn't you say something?"

"And what would that have achieved? She would have denied everything and he would have taken it out on her when they got back home."

Pulling closed the curtains Victor anxiously paced to the kitchen, pulling out the kettle and preparing to make tea.

"We have to do something Sherlock."

"And we will. But Mrs. Hudson has to feel comfortable around us before she'll be willing to admit there's anything wrong. In the meantime I'm sure my brother's keeping an eye on her. He may not care about people, but he wouldn't want me to lose my housekeeper."

Handing Sherlock a cup of tea, Victor settled down on one of the piles of books in their apartment. It hadn't gone unnoticed by Sherlock that the blond became tired rather quickly. Victor always chalked it up to his stressful and time-consuming classes, but Sherlock had his doubts.

"Why do you pretend you don't care about people Sherlock?" Victor inquired as he sipped from his mug.

"Who says I do?"

"Someone who's spent enough time with you to know that your uncaring persona is just a well-crafted façade."

Sherlock paused before responding, he'd never had to answer questions like this before he met Victor.

"I prefer to reserve my empathy for people who I've deemed worthwhile. Emotions are messy and get in the way of things. But unlike my brother, I see merit in caring. I'm just more selective of who I care about than most people."

Seeming to accept that answer, a brief smile graced Victor's lips. After hoisting himself up off the books, he moved past Sherlock and towards his room, but not before adding one last comment.

"Caring about people is what makes us human Sherlock; you shouldn't feel like you have to hide it."

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><p><strong>Reviews are so very much appreciated!<strong>

I picture a young Tom Hiddleston playing Victor.


	5. Here Be Smut (and 2 slightly drunk boys)

Okay, so in this chapter there is quite a bit of smut!

Thank you so much for reading this far, and thank you for your reviews! They really help keep me writing.

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><p>Dopamine is a chemical messenger that helps in the transmission of signals in the brain and other vital areas. Sherlock was aware of this. He was also aware of the fact that firing a gun or a passionate kiss can release dopamine into your system. But Mycroft's men had been very thorough when he sent them over to remove any firearms Sherlock may have had, and the one's they didn't find Mrs. Hudson had stumbled upon and removed anyway. So guns were off the table. Sherlock had never actually tried kissing anyone to experience a dopamine release, but as a man of science he was willing to give it a try.<p>

"I have a proposition for you."

Victor looked up from the book he was reading. They were in the library again, one of Sherlock's experiments had gone wrong and their apartment needed some airing out before any man, woman, or child should be allowed inside.

"I'm listening."

Sherlock shifted in his seat, thinking about how he wanted to phrase what he was about to suggest.

"I can't speak for you Victor, but our partnership has been unexpectedly enjoyable for me. There are plenty of people who have similar friendships to ours, and there are others who take their relationships a step further. Those people do reap some benefits from such a companionship. And, I was just curious, if you would be interested in doing the same."

Complete silence fell over their corner of the library. His tea long forgotten, Victor stared at the man in front of him.

"Sherlock, are you asking me if we could be friends with benefits?"

Praying that he hadn't just ruined everything, Sherlock hesitantly nodded. "Only if you're comfortable with it. You had confessed to liking me while you were intoxicated-"Victor blushed lightly at that. "And it would be beneficiary for both parties. Studies have shown that companionship boosts your mental health, plus we already live with each other. Besides, I am rather fond of you."

Victor stood up, looking puzzled. "But I thought you weren't really interested in… sex."

Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Just because I'm not sexually attracted to anyone doesn't mean I'm disgusted by sex. I just, don't desire it the same way most people do."

Victor was silent again, with his back to the brunette Sherlock almost missed the blonde's silent response.

"Sorry what?"

Turning, Victor smiled at his friend. "Yes, Sherlock."

"Really?" Sherlock stood and moved towards Victor.

"Really."

Relief washed over the brunette. He had grown attached to Victor and would have hated to lose him.

Before he really thought through it, Sherlock cupped Victor's face in his hands and gave him a kiss. Totally caught off guard, Victor froze, and for a moment Sherlock thought he'd blown it. But before he could pull away, he felt Victor begin to kiss back. Pushing him against the bookcase, Sherlock deepened their kiss, feeling Victor moan as it became more and more heated. Before they could take it any further, Sherlock broke the kiss, giving them both a chance to breath. Victor was gasping for breath.

"Wow."

"Yeah." Sherlock whispered.

Still attempting to catch his breath, Victor tugged on Sherlock's wrist.

"Well as much as I've always wanted my first time to be in a library Sherlock, we should probably take this somewhere else before we get kicked out."

Smiling, Sherlock shook his head. "We can't go back to the apartment; it needs another hour to air out at least."

"Oh. Well what about later?"

Pausing to think, Sherlock responded. "That should work, although we'll have to wait until my mother calls with her birthday wishes."

Victor stared back at Sherlock, clearly surprised at what he'd just heard.

"It's your birthday today?"

"Yeah, my mother always tries to make a big deal out of it, but it's really not that important."

Shaking his head, Victor moved to pack up his books.

"Well, now I know exactly what we're doing for the next hour. You and I are going out to get a drink and celebrate!"

"Why?"

Slinging his book bag over his shoulder, Victor smiled and gave Sherlock a pat on the arm.

"Because Sherlock, it's your birthday! You deserve to be celebrated over."

**O O O**

Two hours and a few drinks later, Sherlock and Victor stumbled back into their apartment, both a little more than pleasantly buzzed.

"That was wonderful." Sherlock signed as he slumped down onto a large overstuffed armchair.

"So glad you liked it." Victor giggled as Sherlock pulled him down to practically sit on the brunette's lap. It was a slightly awkward tumble of limbs, but they got it to work.

Sherlock held Victor's jaw and forced the blond to look at him. "Really Victor, it was amazing and I'm so glad you thought of it and that you're here right now. This has been such a wonderful day."

Blushing, Victor ducked his head down. "I'm glad you're here too Sherlock. My life's been kind of dull before I met you, and especially after my dog died I really needed someone-"

"Your dog died too?" Sherlock stared quizzically at the man in his lap.

Victor turned back to his friend. "Yeah, his name was Oakley, but a couple years ago he bit one of our neighbors and they threw a fit and had him put down. But he was only trying to protect me because the neighbor's kid was an asshole and wouldn't leave me alone."

Sherlock paused before unexpectedly pulled Victor into a hug. Maybe it was the alcohol, but he was feeling very emotional tonight.

"Redbeard, my dog, was my best friend growing up. I loved him, but he got sick, really sick, and my parents put him down while I was at school. I never got to say goodbye."

He could feel Victor slowly wrap his arms around Sherlock, returning the hug. "That's awful Sherlock. Was Mycroft there for you at all?"

Sherlock let out an amused laugh. "Mycroft used it as an excuse to reaffirm that caring about something that 'death can touch' gets you nowhere."

"I'm sorry."

"You didn't do anything."

"I know."

They remained like that for a while, both holding tight to one another while blinking away tears left unshed. Until Victor sat back, looked Sherlock in the eye, and kissed him. It was a chaste kiss, which soon leads to other kisses that weren't as innocent.

Sherlock ran his talented hands along Victor's jaw-line before entangling them in his friend's curly blond hair, tugging on it slightly. Moaning against Sherlock's mouth, Victor grinded his hips against the brunette's own, demanding more. Sherlock grinned against Victor's mouth, stood up from the chair, and hoisted Victor into his arms in one fluid motion. Stumbling slightly due to the alcohol, he carried his friend to his bedroom.

Sherlock's bedroom was the polar-opposite of Victor's. Where Victor's room was messy and warm Sherlock's was sterile and practical. But neither of the boys cared about how the room looked as long as there was a bed.

Gently laying the blond down on his bed, the two began desperately undressing each other, tugging on belts and nearly tearing off buttons in their haste. By the time all their clothes were removed both were sporting hard-ons. Sherlock began pressing feather-light kisses to Victor's delicate torso, starting with his sharp hipbones, moving up along his ribs and taught stomach, until he reached his collarbone. While Sherlock continued to worship his roommate's body, Victor was nibbling and burrowing into the soft pale flesh of the crook of Sherlock's neck, all the while grinding his hips against the ones that belonged to the man above him. Victor gasped as Sherlock began tonguing an extremely sensitive spot behind his ear.

"Sherlock. Need you now." Victor moaned against the brunette's neck.

Smiling, Sherlock sat up, teasingly rubbing Victor's erection against his own leaking one as he leant over to his nightstand to rummage through one of his drawers until he found what he was looking for. All the while Victor was rutting against Sherlock, desperately trying to find release.

"A-hah!" Sherlock announced, pulling out a bottle of lube.

"Wh- why do you have that?" Victor asked breathlessly.

"Better to have no use of something you own instead of realizing you needed it later." Sherlock stated matter-of-factly as he squeezed a generous helping of the bottle into his palm.

Leaning down again, Sherlock captured Victor's lips in a deep kiss while his other hand ventured between the blond's legs to prep him, his hand teasingly brushing against Victor's erection, eliciting a moan from the man beneath him. In retaliation Victor broke their kiss, moved down Sherlock's chest, and began sucking and twirling one of the brunette's nipples in his mouth. Sherlock gasped at the new sensation, but managed not to fall on his roommate. Circling Victor's entrance with his finger, Sherlock, began to slowly press his finger inside the blond.

Victor took a sharp intake of breath and tried to relax as Sherlock's finger continued to enter the blond.

Sherlock paused. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, keep going."

Without further words needed, Sherlock continued to loosen Victor's entrance until he could fit two fingers inside. All the while the two continued to press kisses to whatever part of the other's body that they could reach. Sherlock crooked his fingers, hitting a bundle of nerves that caused Victor to buck his hips and let out the most delicious whimper of pleasure.

"Sherlock, please!" Victor begged.

Retracting his fingers, Sherlock repositioned himself so that his throbbing member was brushing against Victor's awaiting entrance.

"Are you sure you're ready?"

"God yes."

With that, Sherlock slowly began to push inside the blond. It felt incredible, better than any high Sherlock could have achieved with drugs. After completely inserting himself into Victor, Sherlock gave both of them time to adjust to the new feeling before gently pulling out and thrusting in again, being sure to rub against that sweet spot with each thrust.

Gasping in ecstasy Victor pulled Sherlock down for another kiss as his other hand slid down to stroke his own erection. Noticing this, Sherlock brushed Victor's hand away and began pumping the blond's member, making sure to match thrusts as he began to speed up.

Each thrust became more and more erratic and Sherlock could feel himself reaching his climax.

"Victor." He whispered.

"Sherlock." Victor arched up into Sherlock's touch, feeling his own release rising.

Giving Victor a few more fast pumps that matched his own, Sherlock spilled inside the moaning blond with a gasp.

Collapsing on top of his roommate, Sherlock closed his eyes, suddenly feeling very tired. That had felt so unbelievably good. Sliding off his friend, Sherlock surveyed the blond. Victor was a wheezing quivering mess, recovering from his own orgasm with his own cum decorating his abdomen.

"You alright?"

"Yeah." Victor whispered in a breathless giggle.

Sherlock smiled and removed himself from the bed and stumbled into the bathroom, returning with a warm rag.

"Here." Sherlock said and began to clean Victor's stomach, the blond's muscles tightening as a reaction to the extra-stimulation of the wet cloth that was washing away his ejaculation fluids.

After cleaning them both off, Sherlock threw the rag in his laundry basket before slipping back into bed with Victor. Both of them too tired to get dressed, they slept naked under the covers. Victor shifted so that he was tucked into Sherlock's side, taking advantage of the extra body head.

"Cold." He murmured.

Sherlock smiled and wrapped his arms around the blond, running one of his hands through Victor's unruly curls, gently tugging on one and watching it spring back into its natural shape. The blond hummed appreciatively as Sherlock continued to massage his scalp. Blinking blearily, Victor turned his head up and pressed a chaste kiss to Sherlock's lips before nestling himself into his roommate's side, whispering one final message before he drifted off to sleep.

"Happy birthday Sherlock, I love you."

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><p><strong>Reviews are much loved and appreciated!<strong>


	6. Domestic

Sorry for the late update! School's been crazy lately! This chapter we have some domestic life and plot development.

Thank you so much for reading this far!

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><p>Sherlock woke to the smell of bacon. Rolling over, finding an empty space where his bed partner used to be. He sighed and rolled out of bed, shrugging on some pants and his robe before pattering out to the kitchen.<p>

Victor had his back to Sherlock, wearing nothing but a baggy t-shirt that stopped around his mid-thigh. Sherlock watched him cook for a while, taking in every little detail. The way his tousled hair fell around his face, how he hummed under his breath and swayed to a song only he could hear, the way his shoulder blades looked under the thin fabric of the old t-shirt he was wearing.

It was a while before Victor even noticed Sherlock was there.

"Morning. I didn't want to wake you just yet." Victor shuffled over and gave Sherlock a peck on the cheek before going back to make breakfast.

"You don't have to do that."

"I want to though. Call it a thank you for last night." Victor jokingly winked at the brunette before setting a plate in front of him.

The eggs were amazing, so amazing that Sherlock couldn't hold back the moan at the taste of his breakfast.

Victor smiled around his fork, proud of his work.

**O O O**

Life continued on after that day.

Sherlock and Victor went to classes in the morning and spent the evenings in their apartment. On nights where Sherlock needed to be distracted or Victor needed to unwind, they found comfort in each other's arms at night.

Victor brought out a softness into Sherlock's life that wasn't there before. He soon found he had become accustomed to coming home to find Victor curled up on that lumpy chair with a book and a cup of tea in an oversized hoodie. Sherlock would walk over and press a kiss to the blond's forehead before depositing his book bag in his room. He'd usually wander in and pick up a book from one of the many piles littering the floor and settle down in the couch across from Victor.

It was in this state that Mrs. Hudson walked in on one day.

"Morning Mrs. Hudson!" Victor happily chirped, not looking up from his book.

Normally there would be a cheerful response from their housekeeper, but this time there was only silence.

"Mrs. Hudson?" Victor turned around towards the woman quickly bustling around the kitchen.

At this point even Sherlock looked up from his book. Victor uncurled himself from his seat and moved towards Mrs. Hudson.

"Mrs. Hudson are you alright?"

"No I'm fine." She said, although there was a slight tremble in her voice. All the while she kept her back to the boys and continued to scrub furiously at a stain on the stove.

"Are you sure?" Victor asked resting his hand on her shoulder and turned her around.

Sherlock darted over at the gasp from Victor.

"It was an accident really, I was just being clumsy and I fell." Mrs. Hudson offered as the two stared at the small cut on top of a fresh bruise just under her right eye.

Victor maneuvered her over to a chair while Sherlock went to retrieve the medical kit. She could excuse the bruise on her face as an accident, but the bruising around her neck was clearly inflicted by someone's hand. It didn't take long for him to find the kit and begin to dab at the cut and make sure it doesn't get infected. Whoever hit her must have been wearing a ring.

_A wedding ring._ Sherlock thought darkly.

"Mrs. Hudson we want to be sure you're alright." Victor calmly offered while pressing a hot cup of tea into her hand before sitting down next to Sherlock, their thighs almost pressing against one another's.

After applying a small Band-Aid to the cut Sherlock leaned back into the couch, it was best to let Victor do the talking at this point.

"Because we know Mrs. Hudson, we know what really happened." She looked up then, first staring at Sherlock then looking into Victor's empathetic blue eyes. It was only then that the walls came down and she started to cry.

While Sherlock was unsure as to what to do with a crying woman, Victor quickly moved forward and pulled their housekeeper into his arms.

"It's going to be alright." He murmured, massaging small circles into her back.

"You have us Mrs. Hudson, you can stay here for as long as you need. He won't hurt you anymore." She was sobbing now, but Victor didn't seem to mind.

"No, I couldn't possibly." She managed to say between sobs.

"You can and you will. Won't she Sherlock?"

Sherlock looked up, brought out of his thoughts to look towards Victor and Mrs. Hudson's puffy pink face.

"Of course she can stay here."

Victor beamed. "See? You can stay in my room until everything's settled. I'll just grab some things and it's all yours."

While Victor helped Mrs. Hudson become comfortable in his room, Sherlock found privacy in the living room. Sitting down on a pile of Victor's books, he dialed a number on his phone he loathed entirely. It rang for a few seconds before a woman's voice answered.

"Hello?"

"Put him on the phone."

"He's a bit busy ri-"

"He'll have time for me." Sherlock growled as he stood up and began wandering the apartment.

There was a brief pause followed by the sound of the phone being passed to someone else.

"Brother dear, what was it you so urgently wanted to tell me?"

"I'm sure you know already. My housekeeper is having some domestic issues."

"And what do you expect me to do about it?" Sherlock found himself in his room now. He grit his teeth at in frustration at Mycroft as he settled down on his bed.

"We've got Mrs. Hudson, her husband is still out there. Take care of it."

"We?" Sherlock could hear his brother leaning forward in interest. "You two are quickly becoming the domestic item aren't you?"

The only answer Mycroft received was the sound of Sherlock hanging up on him at the other end of the line. It had been years since his younger brother had taken interest in another living thing. _Not since the dog_, Mycroft thought to himself. This Victor must be quite the individual.

"Sarah?" His assistant looked up from her phone.

"Where do we stand in the process of locating Mr. Hudson?"

"Still no luck sir. He disappeared shortly after his fight with his wife. But we've got our eyes open."

"Hmm. Keep me posted on that. Also, I would like to see what you have gathered on Victor Trevor."

**O O O**

Shrelock thoughtfully pressed his phone to his lips. Mycroft always had a way of upsetting him. Why was it Mycroft's business who he chose to spend his time with? Victor was nice. He wasn't overbearing and he made him happy, happier than Sherlock had been for a long while. It was no one's business what they did in the privacy of their own home.

Victor came shuffling into his room, a duffle bag clutched in both his hands.

"Since Mrs. Hudson's taking my room, I was wondering if I could stay with you for the time being?"

Sherlock stared at the bag. His life was changing, and Victor was changing it for the better.

"Sure, of course you can."

Grinning, Victor placed his bag out of the way before giving Sherlock a small peck on the cheek.

"Thanks. I just need to grab a couple of my blankets and then I'll be settled."

Watching the blond leave the room with a skip, Sherlock smiled and stuffed his phone in his pocket. He didn't care that his life was changing, or that Mycroft was sticking his nose into things he didn't have a right to know. He had Victor, and that's all that really mattered.

**O O O**

Charles Hudson hunkered down in a dirty abandoned warehouse in the seedy side of town. There was a mattress in the back room, and he could connect to the internet from there. That was all he needed for now.

Logging on to a secure window, Charles opened an anonymous chat box and waited patiently for his partners to come online.

_username Russ_767 has logged on…_

_username Jeff_3SF has logged on…_

Grinning, Charles began typing away at his keyboard. They had work to do.

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><p><strong>Reviews are so very much appreciated!<strong>

I picture a young Tom Hiddleston playing Victor.


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